Category: Europe
Skye, a misty isle that it can be hard to leave
21st August 2008 Skye is yet another of those iconic spots in Scotland's Highlands and Islands that continues to draw me back. My most recent spot of island hopping had me encountering the misty isle yet again, albeit briefly. The story of my most recent stay will wait for a future posting, but the stopover has caused me to cast my mind back over previous visits, just like what happened after my excursion to North Argyll at the end of May. Those trips haven't been as numerous as those to the likes of Lochaber and Lorn, yet Skye remains an island for which I retain a certain fondness.
The fact that it has been reasonably kind to me with the weather has helped me to see the island in its best light. That certainly was the case for my first outing up there in the last week of July in 1999. Up to that point, the month had been very grey, in Edinburgh at least, so I took my chance when I got it. Travel by coach landed me in Portree at around 17:00 in the evening, and I made my way to the Portree Independent Hostel for my night's stay. The glorious evening drew me out for a potter about the place for glimpses of the Cuillin Hills in the distance. The following day saw me hire out a bicycle and I made my way across the island to Dunvegan and its castle. The day was hot and the hills that the road surmounted, though none too impressive, did take their toll on the legs, so my rest in Dunvegan was well-earned. Nevertheless, the roads were quiet and any sights of the coastline and its many small villages kept me entertained, as did the sight of MacLeod's Tables in the distance. For the way back, I took a different route to follow the coast road to Sligachan as far as Bracadale before turning inland on a wonderful if scary narrow road through the hills to Portree. In the evening sunshine, the countryside couldn't have looked any better. The only fly in the ointment is that, due to a lack of camera film, I have to rely rather more on my memory than photos for this account, but that's no bad thing. After staying in a different hostel, I reluctantly left Skye to return to Edinburgh, stopping by Eilean Donan (and annoying the coach driver on the side of the road near Dornie because my bag was in the wrong place and buried under loads of others; it's a lesson that I haven't forgotten: ask where to put your luggage first!) and Inverness. I may only have stayed a few days, yet my appetite had been whetted.
It was August 2001 before I found my way back again, on the first of what has become my now near annual summer Scottish breaks. The weather was more uncertain on this occasion and I made my way from Edinburgh, where I had met up with a friend of mine, through some miserable wet and windy weather; it's just as well that I was travelling in a coach and out of the rain at the time. The day after could not have been more different, and I took my chance to savour part of the Trotternish. The views of the coast and the Quiraing were enticing enough for me to put my then newly acquired Canon EOS 300 SLR through its paces, even from this less ideal vantage point. My trek started at Ellishadder with my taking in a nearby waterfall cascading down the cliffs. Onward progress towards Staffin guaranteed me ample views of the Trotternish ridge. Continuing on towards Flodigarry and beyond garnered closer views of the twisted geological wreckage before I caught the bus to Uig. Uig's being a port might not make the place a beauty spot, but the day remained wondrous and thoughts of an excursion to Harris emanated in the brain; various distractions meant that they remained as such until recently. A bus returned me to Portree and the next day, a duller affair, saw me leaving reluctantly again with a bus taking me to Armadale and a ferry taking me on to Mallaig, from where I made my way back to Edinburgh once more after a stay in Oban and a visit to Mull.
August 2002 saw me crossing Scotland ahead of a band of wet weather that was approaching from the east. A quick run to Skye resulted with my having a short walk around the Old Man of Storr and I stayed only one night before heading off again. It was just as well because the following morning was well soggy, but things cheered up as I made my way south-east again.
My next escapade, a longer affair, took place in July 2005. In some respects, it was inopportunely timed because the failed 22/7 London bombings immediately preceded the trip. My base this time was Broadford because there was some real hill country wandering in the head. In fact, one of my hikes took me among the Cuillin and the Red Hills, while the other was a crossing of the Trotternish ridge. The Cuillin ramble started from Elgol, then having a less usable bus timetable than today, and took me up a narrow path along Loch Scavaig with disconcerting drops into the sea on my left. Even so, any difficulties were more than worthwhile with fabulous views of the Cuillin Hills and Rum on offer in the wonderful sunshine. Reaching Camasunary saw me take a welcome break before continuing along the track to Sligachan under Bla Bheinn. The scenery remained wonderful, with the likes of Sgurr nan Gillean and Marsco easily keeping me occupied. The sky might have clouded over by the time of my arrival in Sligachan, but I was after having a very good day. Cloudiness dominated the walking the day after, too, at least in the early stages. My trek started in Brogaig from where I followed the minor road up onto the Trotternish ridge. Once on the ridge, I headed south to go up and down hills like Bioda Buidhe before going down into Uig via Glen Conon. I was tempted by the idea of mounting Ben Edra and dropping into Glen Uig, but I changed my mind en route. During my descent, the sun came out, and any glimpse back would be towards rounded humps that attempt to belie the existence of the inland cliff that forms their eastern faces. Having a spot of time to spare before the next bus, I found a quiet shady woodland spot, replete with a waterfall, where I could laze for a little while. That opportunity was much enjoyed, a perfect end to an adventurous hike. All in all, I don't recall getting any rain during my stay on the island, but there certainly was a lot of cloud cover about, only for it to disappear at the right moments to allow Skye to display its magic. Broadford served well as a base with all the essentials that I needed and some good views of hill country to boot. It definitely allows for even more and deeper exploration of the area about it than I did.
My having been to Skye only a few times has its uses: there are plenty of reasons to return. That's not to say that Skye hasn't been a satisfying destination for me, but leaving somewhere wanting to go back is so much better than feeling that you've seen all that is there to be seen. After all, those yearnings for a return can generate new hiking ideas and added motivation for exploring the outdoors. I am inclined to think that Skye merits another longer trip, perhaps in a season other than summer. Only time will tell what happens, but I was treated like I was on my most recent encounter with the place, it will not have been bad to me at all.
A plan is coming into place
7th August 2008 Now that the accommodation side of things has been organised, I think that I can be brave enough to share the scheme for a planned trip to Scotland that now seems to be very much in the offing. The destination this time is the Western Isles and it would be my first visit to these parts. The journey that is coming into place takes me from Skye onto Harris and then to Lochboisdale before I return to the mainland at Oban.
The weather looks as if it could be a mixed bag when I'm up there but it's hard both to discern the future and to get a sense of the Scottish weather patterns from England anyway. As it happens, I seem to get the sense that those Scottish weather trends sometimes pass by those of us who live south of the border and that might explain how I got surprised by the perfect conditions that I enjoyed when I visited Argyll in May. Nevertheless, so long as ferry crossings are unaffected, there are some dry sunny spells and it isn't a case of constantly getting soaked, I should be kept happy.
Sketching out some walking ideas is next on the planning to do list. I won't be spending so much time on Skye but the prospects for some ambling cannot be ruled out. Getting to know a little of Harris, South Uist and what lies in between is the main point of the outing and some promising hill country exists on Harris and South Uist looks promising so I should not be short of ideas. In fact, perusal of the maps and guidebooks that are in my possession is already paying dividends. If rain intrudes on play, having a few "foul" weather alternatives in mind is no load since any wandering that helps me to get know these islands a little will be worthwhile.
Of course, the matter of deciding what to take and what rucksack to use to carry it is ahead of me too. My weighty Karrimor is not in the running so a recently acquired Osprey Aether 60 or my well travelled Atmos 50 could be making the journey with me. The former has on offer its 60 litre capacity but the Tardis-like Atmos cannot be discounted either. Not only did it work very well for me on weekend visits to Lochaber and Argyll earlier this year but other examples have served well on a LEJOG and a two week crossing of Scotland on the Southern Upland Way. Whatever rucksack I take, the weight being carried will need watching since I'll be travelling about; it's not as if I will be fanning out from a single base. That weight watching will be balanced against what is needed to cope with whatever weather I meet and any terrain that I'll be crossing. However, having sorted out a roof over my head for every night, that will help on keeping down the weight that I'll be carrying too.
Getting ready for that trip up north has followed all the usual patterns for my trips away: arranging transport and accommodation, thinking out ideas for walks, sorting out what to take and doing the packing. Because I am heading for somewhere new and making a number of sea crossings, the planning might be a bit more deliberate than usual but common elements still are shared with a day hike or a weekend away. My preparations are still not complete and may not be so until just before I finally go out that door and set off. Even then, there can remain a certain amount of unfinished business with walking ideas or needing to pick up some needed item on the way. I certainly hope that there isn't too much of that this time so I need to get cracking on making sure that everything is sorted out before I go.
A wander around Welshpool in hot weather
30th July 2008 After a mini-heatwave, we seem to have returned to more run-of-the-mill British weather again. Not being a fan of hot weather, I am not sorry, even if it means that things are a little damper. That heat made the past weekend none too ideal for a spot of hill wandering, but July seemed to slip by without such an outing and, on Sunday, I headed off to Welshpool for a circular hike regardless. It was to be a day for protecting oneself from the effects of strong sun and intense heat. There was a threat of showers, but I was long ensconced at home by the time that one happened in Macclesfield, and none was to cool me down on my way around Montgomeryshire.
The travel arrangements were easy: take a train to Wolverhampton and change there for the last leg of the journey, both on the way out and the way back. Public transport arrangements aren't that easy sometimes, so this was one of the simpler days. The journey wasn't too long either, with a departure not long before 09:00 landing me in Welshpool at around 11:25. Even with departing at about 18:50, I was back home well before 22:00.
Being allotted a good amount of time, I decided not to force myself and to watch how much walking I was doing, understandable given the weather on the day. I started with a quick amble around Welshpool before heading for the hills, and it actually looks a reasonably pleasant town. My escape into the countryside took me north along the Montgomery canal, part of the Severn Way, until I approached the Offa's Dyke Path. Crossing from one trail to the other did mean some crossing of busy roads and a building site for a new livestock market. Once past those obstacles, I joined the aforementioned national trail at Buttington to proceed through fields where cereals are growing before I hit the slopes. The hinterland of the Severn clearly has its fertile spots.
As with other parts of the Offa's Dyke Path, the hills to the east of Welshpool are not that high, but they are steep-sided. I found the same sort of topography around Knighton and the hill country north around Ruthin, Llangollen and Chirk also shares this characteristic. The day was getting hotter all the while, so I took my time ascending the slopes until they levelled out a bit as I neared Beacon Ring fort, the highest point of my hike at around 400 metres above sea level. From there on, the terrain stayed more friendly with its ups and downs and forest cover was on offer for a good of the journey down to Forden, where I left the Offa's Dyke Path to return to Welshpool.
That return involved a lot of road walking, never a pleasant thing and not helped by boiling heat or having to keep an eye out for combine harvesters and their ilk. A plan for using the public footpath network to cut down on the tarmac bashing came to nought when I saw what my map's suggestion crossed: a field with growing crops and no obvious way through. In any case, it was better not to attempt tricky navigation in the heat.
As I continued on, I took advantage of any shade for a rest when it offered, and it is for that reason that I took a break beside a high hedge near Welshpool's airport. After negotiating a roundabout that thankfully wasn't too busy at the time, I made my way up a quiet lane that took me again onto the Montgomery canal and the Severn Way for the last stretch of the way into Welshpool. By now, the heat was such that I was glad to be reaching my journey's end for the day and, when I did make Welshpool, I found a quiet and well appreciated shady spot for a bit of recuperation before catching the train home again.
A weekend around Argyll: Part 3
26th July 2008 Sometimes, it's just very hard to get oneself home from a very beautiful location and, if the weather's being very exceptional, then it's so much harder. That's how it felt on leaving Oban to head south again on the bank holiday Monday. Add to that the feeling that I had I had not made the most of what had been granted to me and a certain heaviness of heart results. I did have some good walking in that tramp from Inverarnan to Dalmally and the views that I encountered on my Sunday ambling were superb but it's amazing what perfect weather does to you.
That maelstrom going on in my mind caused me to leave Oban early to allow a stop in Taynuilt to savour a bit more of the area before I completely left it. I planned a two hour stopover and a stroll in the general direction of Glen Noe on the shore of Loch Etive got me as far as Inverawe Country Park. If I had allotted more time, then I might have reached Glen Noe and made the journey to Glasgow smoother than was the case.
My plan was to go to Glasgow via Tyndrum and that's what I did. A change of coach was needed in Tyndrum and it's here where things started to unravel; the onward connection was full and couldn't carry me. It's being the 11:00 from Fort William on a sunny bank holiday easily explained what happened and I suppose that I should have thought of that. That left me with next to two hours to spend and I didn't waste a minute by wandering over and back along the West Highland Way. The Crianlarich hills appeared so beguiling that they thwarted any notions of catching the 14:00 train to Glasgow Queen Street.
Like a cat with nine lives, I was left with other options. Chief among these was the 14:20 Citylink service but that didn't arrive because of a problem with the vehicle. It was cutting things a bit fine but the 15:20 would have conveyed me to Glasgow with plenty of time left to catch the first train on a southbound railway relay that would have got me to Macclesfield at a not insensible time. However, the bank holiday jinx struck again with heavy traffic on the A82 north of the Balloch roundabout putting paid to that idea. It is little wonder that a campaign to upgrade the said road is under way.
Nevertheless, I discovered a late evening service that would get me all of the way to Manchester. There was a wait before it departed so I enjoyed the evening sunshine in George Square before setting off. Once in Manchester, I made my way to its airport and picked up a reasonably priced taxi home from there. My arrival time was much later than intended but I was home anyway and enjoyed some snatched opportunities to savour more of Scotland's wilder country at its best. I had left wanting more, never a bad thing.
All in all, this was a return journey that was anything but smooth. It was almost as if Scotland was using everything in its power to hang onto me: fantastic weather, wonderful countryside and a busy transport system. I have been left wondering if a better plan for any bank holiday excursion to Scotland would be to add a day off to the break and use that to return home. The traffic should be lighter and I might even enjoy an extra day's walking in brilliant sunshine while everyone else is stuck in the traffic.
A weekend around Argyll: Part 2
22nd July 2008 It's been a while coming, but here's the second part of the trip report for that weekend spent around Argyll at the end of May. The lengthy walk from Inverarnan to Dalmally meant that getting a rest on Saturday evening took more priority than planning where I was going on the day after, so that had to wait. Anyway, two days of lengthy walks back to back might have too much even if I got every encouragement from the weather; it couldn't have been more marvellous. The day after was just as good and left me kicking myself for not taking a day off from work to stay longer. That made me snatch every opportunity available on the way home, and that's for the next installation of the trip report. Sunday was to be an easier day.
So, after getting a few things that needed doing out of the way, the day was clear for walking once I had decided where to go. With Sunday public transport and my exertions the day before, I was left in a quandary, and ended up plumping for Kerrera. Even if I might have felt that I wasn't making the most of the sunny weather, it was no mistake. I had been there before, on a sodden, soggy Friday in November 2002. That time, I did catch it in a dry interlude, but it just didn't compare with the way that I found it this time around. The way there was the same as before: a one or two-mile walk out of Oban and a short ferry ride across the Sound of Kerrera to the island. The obvious thing to have done was to repeat the circular walk around the south of the island, but I was more mindful of time on this occasion. What happened was that I went for a more freestyle wander around the middle of the island, taking the opportunity to savour the views all around me.
Kerrera's position does give it countless advantages when it comes to seeing what surrounds it. The highest point of the island may not exceed 200 metres above sea level, but it really does punch above its weight on the scenery stakes. It really came as a surprise to me that you could see inland as far as Ben Cruachan, and that's near Tyndrum and Dalmally! Looking seaward, Mull does not loom as much in the vistas as you might think but, rather, it's parts of the mainland like Morvern, Ardgour, Sunart and Ardnamurchan that really supply the main mountainous backdrop to the seascapes filling the senses. Those views really were more noteworthy than the freestyle wandering that I did, I ended up near the summit of Barr Dubh at one point on my visit. Otherwise, it was a case of following tracks for parts of their lengths.
I made for the 17:00 ferry. It didn't leave on time thanks to the ferryman, a laid-back character by all accounts, being engrossed in conversation. £4.50 was the return fair to be paid on the way back; it was £3 when I last used it. Once returned safely to the mainland after a short crossing on undulating seas, I plumped for a different course to Oban. Instead of the road, I set off on a right of way that took me through fields and along tracks on what was very much a glorious evening. In the meantime, the Kerrera continue to ply its way at times needed by day visitors to the island rather than any timetable. I suspect that he stopped at 18:00, but it was a welcome sight in this age of command and control.
I ended up on Pulpit Hill before making my way back to my accommodation. Ben Cruachan could be seen here too, and I think that it might offer the best views over Oban too. If my memory serves me correct, I think that I was actually looking down on McCaig's Tower. That November did see me up around the folly, revelling in the only sunshine to be found during the whole time. That was another Sunday and I left Oban in deteriorating weather conditions
There was to be more to my walking that day than an over and back journey to Kerrera. A certain pattern of wandering where the mood took me had been developing all day, and it really showed its colours when I went out again to take in the delights of what remained of the evening. That ambling took me along Oban's Esplanade and I continued out the Ganavan road until I picked up a path towards Dunollie Beg and kept pottering from path to path until I found myself next to the strand at Ganavan after all. I continued a bit further up the coast before turning around and heady back along the road to Oban and my bed for the night, ending a day that might have been taken up with gentler explorations. There are times when that is needed too.
